


Here to Stay

by MercuryHomophony



Series: Behold the Field in Which I store my Headcannons (TAZ) [11]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mentions of Death, graphic depictions of domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 18:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11927190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryHomophony/pseuds/MercuryHomophony
Summary: After a certain age, elves don't grow older. They look the same, year after year. the only way to tell if an elf is really really old is by their light.As an elf lives, the light of their soul gets brighter and brighter as their body slowly fades away. The few elves who die of old age are simply engulfed in this light, in the joy of a life well-lived and completed, and when the light vanishes, they are gone.Here's the thing:Taako, even 800 years after the Day of Story and Song, still hasn't begun to glow.ORTaako's family checks in on him at breakfast.





	Here to Stay

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno where I heard this thing about elves, but I was pretty sure I heard it about some variation of DnD elves, so... whatever, it's the TAZ headcanon field. Enjoy!  
> (also I know Justin said Taako's last name being Taaco was a goof but you can pry that one from my cold lichy hands)

Family breakfast in the Taaco household was a slower, calmer affair than most would expect. The occasional spell was let loose, usually to heat food or freshen up the stove between dishes, but aside from Taako’s idle humming and half-murmured casting, the four of them sat in familiar companionable quiet - three Reapers, the deceased, untiring agents of the Raven Queen, and one wizard - the last living member of the IPRE.

It was something Barry had been giving a lot of thought to, lately. Lup and Kravitz thought about it too. He’d talked to them before, but they were reluctant to bring up the topic directly to Taako. He understood why.

Years ago, now… gosh, almost 800 years ago? Time flies when you’re reaping, he supposed. Almost 800 years ago, he and Lup had had a discussion, before becoming liches, about his own mortality and what that meant for Lup, if- when, they beat the Hunger. And he’d learned something interesting.

“The thing is, babe,” Lup had explained, moving to pull her hair back - a nervous tic of hers - “elves don’t… we don’t die of old age, like everyone else does.” She hurried to explain. “I mean, yeah, we die eventually, but… unless something kills us, we kind of have to… be okay? With it?” She hummed to herself, searching for better words. “It’s like… okay. Okay, I saw one elf I can use as an example. She was like, really, really old, and her partner had passed on, and she had all these grown-up grandkids, and she knew everyone was good, and it was her time, right? So she knew it was time to go. So, she starts… glowing.”

He’d stared at her. “Literally, or…?”

“Nah, very literally. When they figure it’s time, deep down, they just… start to go. Their souls overpower their bodies, I guess, and they glow brighter and brighter, and then, one day…” She held up her hands, making an explosion of smoke between them. “Poof. They’re gone.”

“You keep saying they…”

She laughed, a little dryly. “Well, ‘koko and I didn’t really grow up with a lot of elves, so… yeah, it applies to us, too.” She leaned towards him, her head thumping onto his shoulder, and he leaned back into it. “You wanna know something?” she asked, suddenly serious.

“…yes?”

“I think…” She trailed off, swallowing and staring straight forward at the wall. “I think… when you go, once we’ve fixed the Hunger for good… I might start glowing then.”

Shortly after, their Lichification plans had started - then, the relics, the Bureau of Balance, the final fight against the Hunger, and their employment as Reapers… despite the gravity of her statement, he hadn’t really needed to think about it.

But then, ten years became one hundred, then two, then three, then eight… And Taako was older, not that you could know by looking at him, but you could see it, if you looked at his eyes when his guard was down, and still…

No glowing.

It wasn’t a problem, per say, he thought to himself, but he was curious. Chin in hand, he watched Taako cook. Lup, in a rare state of exhaustion, had her face down on the table next to her, and Kravitz sat closer to Taako, idly watching him and lost in his own thoughts.

“Hey, Taako?”

“Hmm?”

“I was thinking-”

“Hmm.”

“’koko, don’t be mean,” Lup chuckled into the table.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s on your mind, Barrold?” He dropped some vegetables onto the cutting board, expertly dicing them for… whatever dish he was making.

“I was thinking about something Lup told me a while ago. About how old elves get?”

Next to him, Lup’s ears pricked up. Kravitz glanced over at him, eyebrow raised.

“What about it?”

He shifted, feeling awkward, but he had already put his foot in, so- “She said elves start to glow when they’re… old enough, I guess. And I know elves live a long time, but it’s been almost 800 years since we’ve beaten the Hunger.” Taako’s movements slowed slightly as he paid the human more mind, less flourished. “And, I’m not asking to, to pressure you or anything. I just… I was curious, to know if you’d ever… be _ready_.”

Taako’s hands stilled, then made a gesture. A pair of ghostly hands appeared on the cutting board and resumed his chore. Taako, uncharacteristically quiet, even for family breakfast, looked out the kitchen window.

Barry didn’t know what to make of his expression. The elf wore his emotions pretty plainly, these days, but this contemplative expression, eyes distant in thought, was always incomprehensible. He’d only know what the elf was thinking when he’d gone through it himself, and chose to share with the group - And as the silence dragged on, Barry felt worse and worse for bringing it up, starting to sink into his chair. A hand fell on his own, making him jump - Lup had reached over, tilting her head in his direction and giving him the most subtle nod, and he felt a little better. At least he wasn’t alone in his curiosity.

“I…” Taako started, eyes still miles away. “I… don’t know. I mean…” he glanced down, frowning, and banished the mage hands with a thought, picking up where they left off. “Taako’s good here, you know? I’m pretty cool about being alive, and like - the Taako brand isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I like keeping up with that.”

“Do you miss any of the others?” Lup asked, voice soft. He hesitated, only for a second, and shrugged.

“Honestly? Not really. See, they did their thing, right? Like, Magnus had his school, and his dogs, Merle had his beach and his kids, and those adventure camp brats are still knocking at my door every few years, and the places Cap’n’port visited, and the Bureau, that’s all… it’s all still there, you know?” Satisfied with the vegetables, he moved on to whisking some egg-y concoction. “Like, I _know_ they’re gone, and like… yeah, that kind of sucks, I guess. But their shit is still here, and I’m still here, so…” He didn’t finish that thought, but the three Reapers knew - Magnus’s School of Protection, the Hammer and Tails dog sanctuary, and Merle’s Adventure Camp/Guild frequently received generous “anonymous” gifts when they fell on hard times, the occasional guiding hand from the last of the Seven Birds. If Taako passed away, he’d be a Reaper like the rest of them, and the job didn’t exactly lend itself to being a multi-media brand icon and secret philanthropist. “And, you guys are all around, so I don’t really need much else…” He shrugged again, flicking the whisk into the sink and sashaying over to the stove with his bowl.

“Do you ever get tired?” Barry asked, smiling. Taako snorted.

“Well yeah, but Taako ain’t lying down in his grave anytime soon. Something is gonna have to _make_ Taako stop before he stops, you feel me?” He poured part of the mixture into the pan, then stopped. “…unless, it’s causing problems for you three…?”

“No, Taako,” Kravitz finally spoke up, reaching over to rest his hand on his husband’s arm. “Our jurisdiction is people who don’t cross over _after_ they die, not people who haven’t died.” He smirked. “After eight hundred years living with us, you think you’d remember that.”

“Babe, I can’t be bothered to remember every detail of the Spooky Ghost Jailbook,” Taako teased back, tossing his hair. “Just wanna cover my bases. Don’t wanna end up in Ecto-Prison with the rejects.”

“I think, short of straight up becoming a necromancer, a lich, and raising an undead army, you’re good.”

“Cool, I’ll just do two of those things, then,” he laughed, swaying out of the way when Kravitz aimed a playful slap to his arm.

“Do not,” Kravitz said, smiling.

“We just wanna make sure you’re okay,” Lup said, turning the conversation away from the blatant PDA. Not that Barry could really complain, they’d been worse for a good fifty years. “Like… if you ever get to that point, that’s okay.”

Taako tossed a handful of the veggies into a saucepan, snapping his fingers to light the stove. “Yeah. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get there. Like, I don’t think anything would fall apart if I did - aside from my Brand empire, of course - but…” He turned towards them, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. “I just… I wanna see it, you know? Live it.” He waved one hand airily. “We spent a hundred years trying to save these worlds, I’m gonna fucking enjoy it.” He sent them an exaggerated wink. “I know I’m a star, but I’m not gonna be glowing in _that_ way anytime soon.”

Lup snorted, and he bounced a piece of mushroom off of her head (Barry ducked as it ricocheted off towards him). “What are you making, anyway?”

“Little recipe ol’ Cap’n’port sent me a long time ago.” Taako poured out some more of the egg-mixture, and added another handful of veggies. “One I’ve been perfecting for a bit.”

The topic turned back to food, and eventually petered back into that companionable silence as Taako finished making their breakfast.

 

Time would pass. People would come, and people would go, and maybe, one day, Taako would be ready to go, too.

But until then, Barry was content to enjoy eternity with his family.


End file.
